Emily went to the orthodontist yesterday. She was having some difficulty picking the color of plastic bands she wanted on her brackets. It's a tough decision. The gal was very nice and offered to put a couple on to see how she liked it (braces as a fashion accessory). Emily rejected the first options and when she was done I asked her what the colors were that she had rejected.
"Well, I tried light pink and dark pink, you know, for Valentine's Day, but I didn't want to have pink the whole time."
So, what did you end up with?
"Just dark pink."
This comment made total sense to her, even though I was laughing hysterically. For some strange, teenage reason, it still makes sense to her. Although she does see why I was laughing hysterically. The really scary thing is that I could see her explaining this to her friends and having them totally understand what she meant, even though on the surface--where the rest of us reside--it doesn't make any sense.
Well, it turns out that my oncologist doesn't think it's a good idea for me to have an MMR shot. Something about it being a live virus. Whatever. So if you come down with the measles or mumps stay really far away from me. Come to think of it, if you come down with any kind of sickness stay really far away from me. I don't want any diseases thankyouverymuch. The inn is full.
As for substituting, he's going to write me a letter excusing me from getting the shot. I could have saved myself quite a few days had I just called him first and gotten the letter right off. Of course then I wouldn't know that I wasn't immune to measles or mumps so I could make sure to steer clear of all of the people that I know that have those diseases. So, there's a silver lining, as there always is.
My friend Mr. C says I don't blog enough. The reality is that I am a binge blogger. There is actually not much in my life that I do consistently other than eat and sleep so it is perfectly natural that my blogging is erratic. Embrace my erratic behavior. It is the essence of who I am.
So, my thoughts for today are utterly random and spurred on by Mr. C's request for more posts.
Tommy had a good week at school this week. "Better" is how his teacher stated it. The good news is that she knows he is capable and can tell when he is trying so it helps us to get a realistic view of his behavior. Mrs. E said he was "full of energy" in Sunday school today though. He said he was just "really excited." :-) It's just a matter of perspective. She did tell me a great story though. Last Sunday a little boy told Tommy that he hates God. Tommy was shocked and concerned by this and alerted the teachers saying, "He needs help!! You need to help him!"
Yesterday, all on their own, Katya and Tommy decided to straighten up the house to bless Daddy. What a delight. They went around looking for things that weren't where they belonged. Wow moment. Thinking of someone other than themselves is a big thing for two kids who spent time in an orphanage where the only rule is self-preservation. And doing something like cleaning up other people's stuff is huge (as opposed to blessing someone by doing something you enjoy like drawing a picture). They scored some ice cream and a trip to the gym for a swim with Daddy for that one.
Last night Sam and I were discussing my side effects. The latest one being water retention. I'm the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Mom. Lovely. It hits a peak in the evening when I feel like I might burst. My socks leave a very deep indentation on my marshmallow legs that stays for a significant period of time. Anyhoo, while we were talking I told Sam that a lot of the time I have to stop and remind myself that I have leukemia. I don't have fatigue, brain fog, stomach problems or marshmallow legs--I have leukemia. Weird, huh? It would seem to be an obvious thing that I am constantly concerned about, but it's not. I suppose it's just like anything--you get caught up in the details and forget about the big picture.
We were also talking about how we try to just live like I'm not sick by trying to make plans and go on like everything is normal. The reality of the situation being I never know when I am going to feel lousy and end up on the couch or in a major brain fog for the day. So we have to make the plans realizing that they could change on a moments notice. But the truth is that is exactly how we are supposed to live our lives anyway. It's ok to make our plans as long as we know that our plans may not mesh with God's plans and our day or week (or life!) may go completely differently than we thought--and being ok with that. Leukemia is just a helpful little reminder of God's sovereignty wrapped in a cancer package.
My latest foray into trusting God's sovereignty in my daily plans is that I am signing up to be a substitute teacher at the kids' school a day or two a week. The kids are totally jazzed and can't wait for me to be in their classrooms. This could be a really good thing by giving me somewere I have to be so that I am forced to work through the minor levels of fatigue, but on the flip side this could totally tank. Either way it's worth a shot.
In getting my paper work in order to be a substitute I had to have proof that I have had an MMR immunization. For some reason the little scrap of paper that my mom recorded my childhood immunizations on isn't sufficient. So, I had a blood test and discovered that I am not immune to measles and mumps. Clearly those immunizations have a shorter shelf life than assumed. So, now I have to get a shot. I have to check with my doctor first to make sure my white blood cell count is high enough (or that would be really fun--giving myself measles and mumps!!) and then I get the shot. Oy. As if I didn't spend enough time with doctors as it is.
I could go on as I am feeling rather clear-headed today, but I will stop as I am sure that your neck is sore from sitting and reading your computer monitor. If I write enough in one day, maybe you can just pretend that you have forgotten to check my blog for a long time and that you are the one catching up with all of the posts you missed! Just like with Tommy--it's all a matter of perspective.
I was attempting to start a post while at the same time heating some soup for my kids lunch. Multitasking is not my strong suit. You know when the soup is done when you hear the sizzle of it boiling over onto the stove top.
Be back later when I am not going to be putting my family at risk of a house fire.
Today I met with a group of other moms who have all adopted older children from Russia. It was a weird feeling to be in a room of women who all understand. It was a great feeling. We all had that tell tale twitch in our right eye (click here if that doesn't make sense) but ours were all special--they twitch Tchaikovsky.
There were 9 other women there who understood that even though your child's age may be 12 or 7 or whatever, maturity-wise that is not how old they are and you cannot treat them according to their biological age. They are actually an incredibly confusing mix of experiental age, emotional age and biological age. They have experienced far too much for their young lives (and seen way too much via the orphanage). They are emotionally immature because of many of those experiences. And yet their birth certificates give them an age based on birth. Parenting is a mine field of uncertainties with these kids to be sure.
There were a couple of others who had their own version of Tommyland. Though I am quite certain theirs are not nearly as entertaining. Or as cute.
I'm thinking it would be fun to have a support group of women with leukemia who've adopted from Russia. Two support groups in one. I'm guessing it's a small group though. Like one person small. A very elite group to be sure.
Speaking of leukemia, there's not a lot of news on that front. Which in actuality is a very good thing. My last PCR test revealed that the number of leukemic cells was actually down from the previous PCR test which is excellent news. It's not to zero (which would be the ultimate goal) but it's very low. The PCR test detects 1 in 10,000 cells. Wow. The fact that they can check for the evil leukemia cells at that level is mind boggling. I'm guessing if you saw them under a microscope they'd have horns and a pitchfork and an evil glare in their eyes. They probably have a Wicked Witch of the West laugh too. But you can't hear that under a microscope. And then they would melt into a pathetic heap when a bucket of Gleevec is thrown on them! Then, all of the little flying monkey good cells would apologize for being under the spell of the leukemic cells and give me their....broom? Ok, the Oz analogy falls apart at this point. Nevermind.
So I've found a group that understands me and my post adoption stress syndrome and Gleevec is winning the battle against the Wicked Witch of Leukemia. I think that calls for a bowl of ice cream!
We add daily to the list of things that Tommy doesn't understand. Today it was his name. Yes, you read that right.
Since Katya decided to switch from Katie back to Katya, Tommy decided he'd like to be called Thomas. I told him I'd be happy to oblige any time he is in trouble but we aren't switching his name. We tried to explain that Katya's full name is actually Ekaterina and Katya is a nickname just like Tommy is. It never occurred to him that Tommy came from Thomas. Let's just say it took a while to get the nickname concept across. Keeping in mind that I call him any variety of nicknames in a given day. Tommy, Thomas, Crazy Bob, Little Jack (Noah is Big Jack). The list is endless. And he always knows I'm talking to him.
So we were discussing Tommy's full name at this point. His full name is Thomas Artem (said Artiom--the e is actually supposed to have two dots on top of it) Gabriel M. So, Sam said he could be called "Tag" for a nickname. We thought it sounded like a frat boy name, which actually added to the appeal for us to use it. Anyway, this lead to a half hour discussion on why exactly Tag would be a nickname he could have.
Well, what's your full name?
"Thomas Artem Gabriel M."
Right. So, what does Thomas start with?
"T"
Artem?
"O?" Nope.
"A?"
Gabriel?
"G."
So you put those together and what does it spell?
"T-a-g?"
See?
"Um...ok...but why would that be my name?"
I cannot confirm at this point that he understands any of our discussion at all . But the fun didn't stop there. He asked something else that for some reason I cannot remember the details of and I asked him to tell me his full name again.
"Thomas...Gabriel...Ar...no wait Thomas Artem...Gabrit?"
Gabrit????
"Gilbret?"
WHAT?
"Gibler?"
"Gabrit?"
At this point I was at the other end of the table trying to use my Darth Vader death grip on him. Which only made him giggle.
So I said in my most clearly enunciated voice, "It's Thomas Artem GABRIEL."
He responded with a look that told me he had never heard that word before in his life.
Um, Houston...we have a problem.
I'm hoping that by tomorrow those brain cells will have repaired themselves and restored his name to it's proper position in his memory. It was there just seconds before we lost contact. Where it went is anybody's guess.
Ok, this was a great one.
Emily was interviewing my mom over the telephone this afternoon for a school project. She had a bunch of questions about when Grandma was born and when she was a teenager. She asked her what a typical date was like when she was a teen. "Going to the movies," was my mom's response. Emily--in all seriousness--asked, "So, were they talkies or silent?"
I haven't laughed that hard in a looooong time. I almost hit the floor I was laughing so hard. It's a good thing my mom has a sense of humor.
I had what medical experts technically call a "yucky day" yesterday. The great news is that it has been quite a while since I've had one. Days, weeks, mon...well, weeks anyway. I was actually taken by surprise by the yuckiness and honestly thought I just needed to push through it. It became painfully obvious that I was not going to be able to push through it when I had to lay down several times while try to make myself something to eat. So, I gave in to it and hung out on the couch and watched movies all day. Providentially I had a stack of dvds from the library that I had been wanting to watch.
More good news about me not feeling well is that the kids are very sweet when they come home and see me on the couch. Their demeanor changes significantly and they kick in to "helper" mode much more easily. At one point I looked over and saw Noah helping Rachel with her homework. He vehemently denied helping her for some reason, but Rachel said repeatedly that he was helping her and he was sitting in the chair with her and I think their shoulders were actually touching! Reason enough to enjoy my gleevec day.
Tommy was also very sweet and gave me a "lawkie talkie" so that I could call him if I needed anything. I did when any evil mother with leukemia would do, I waited until he got upstairs and then called him and said I needed something. hee, hee, hee. He dutifully came downstairs with a smile so I told him I needed a hug. Making up for the sadistic parent in me somehow I hope. On his way back up he said he'd be upstairs if I needed him and I am certain he was starting to tell me to not call him unless I had a good reason, but he stopped himself and said, "nevermind." The next time I called him he fetched his sister from her room for me. Very helpful to a mommy stuck on the couch. "Tommyphone" is the wave of the future. Who needs a Blackberry? The downside of "Tommyphone" is that the text messaging capabilities are somewhat limited and have a few bugs in the system. But it's fun to play with!
Fret not though faithful readers, I was up and about today and accomplishing many things. I even braved the fruit market with every snowbird in Mesa. If that doesn't prove that I am feeling well, nothing does!
It's a new year, but Tommy is still giving us things to ponder.
During Christmas break we were driving somewhere when I heard one of the kids say something about winter. Tommy replied, "It's winter?? I thought it was December."
And tonight while I was making dinner Tommy started a conversation with me that started with the question: "How do you know when you are a parent?" (Answer #1 When you are answering questions like this.) I actually responded by asking him what a parent is. A mom or dad was his answer. Good so far.
"So, Tommy, what makes someone a mom or a dad?"
His responses:
"You have a wife?" No.
"You buy stuff?" No.
"You're big?" Nope.
"You have a lot of money?" No.
"If the governor says you're a parent?" No. (early indication of Democratic leanings?)
"If you have a house?" Nope.
"If you're big?" No.
"If you're 20?" No again.
"If you put make up on?" Nope.
"You have a car?" No.
The good news is that after much discussion about people we knew that were and weren't parents, he finally understood that having children is what makes you a mom or dad. That and the permanent twitch in your right eye.
